


In Middle Night, A Riddle Bright

by Purple_Shade



Series: Dragon Age Prompts and Shorts [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Mage Hawke, F/M, Fenris Has Issues, Past Abuse, Prompt Fill, Slow Burn, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:19:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_Shade/pseuds/Purple_Shade
Summary: Fenris wants to get away from magic, and escape his past, but the only person who wants to help him deal with his problems or his history, is a mage.Hawke keeps losing things. Her home, her family. The longer she's in Kirkwall the more desperate she is to hold on to anything she has left. Doing whatever it takes, even if it means sacrificing her morals, or herself.He's prickly and defensive, she's clingy and secretive. Neither likes the others coping mechanisms, but he can't seem to stay away from her, and she certainly doesn't want him to.Can they work things out?





	In Middle Night, A Riddle Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Why does almost no one write what it's like for Fenris to go into Lyrium Ghost mode?  
> The first part is mostly that plus establishing some themes.

-

He should have known; her presence had left a faint tingling when he'd gotten near, the curse'd lyrium in his skin resonating. Of course a mage would be the one seeking an opertunity for gain, it was in their nature.  
Hefting his large sword in both hands Fenris watched the shadowy torso of the demon before him, trying not to think of the mage behind him.  
The demon wasn't more comfort to look upon. Waiting in inhuman stillness, darker than night smoke tendrils whisped off of its core absorbing the torch light in the storage room, the single unblinking eye a red star in its inky form. Fenris repressed a shudder and refused to meet its gaze, sliding the woken memories of mages and demons to the back of his mind for later, or hopefully never.

Hawke made her move first, her feet shifting audibly on the dusty tile floor, he tensed, feeling more than hearing the eerie humming melody of magic at his back. Lights danced past him, scattering in bright opalescent arcs toward the umbral fade creature. It slashed an arm-like tendril dissipating part of the volley mid-air, the rest landed in succession, tearing chunks of ragged cloth-like darkness from the being. It rocked backwards curling away, then roaring in an amalgam of thunder and bird screech attempted to surge past him at Hawke.   
  
Fenris thrust his sword out, catching it at the midsection, the force of the demons own movement laced the blade in deep, shaking Fenris' footing even as a seasoned warrior.  
Before it could free itself Fenris slid himself sideways, splaying his gauntleted grip until he braced haft and spine-tip of the blade,  pressing forward. The demons body did not rend like flesh, it tore slowly as a heavy fabric bolt would, snagging and dulling the blade.

He would have preferred cutting through a wood pylon dressed in armor to this.  
Fenris ducked its flailing tendril and widened his stance, exhaling he set his mind on the lyrium brands laid in his skin. Let himself feel the pull of the fade through them, leaned inward and became one with that feeling. Just as each time he'd ignited them, the marks burned during the transition, a searing hot pain that he endured in silence only from a great amount of familiarity. Blue light suffused along the twisting patterns, spreading outwards until his whole form luminesced.  
The creature before him recoiled from the brightness, writhing when it was unable to free itself. The world around him began to flicker, bring into his periphery illusory lights, phantom shadows and whispers. The glow flowed from his hands to the sword half buried in the demon, the blade suddenly blazed with light and all at once the creatures body posed no more resistance than a straw stuffed doll, the cutting edge sliding completely through horizontally. Giving a gurgling scream it disolved into a pile of oily rags at his feet.   
  
Fenris turned to see Hawke, her blue eyes wide with curiosity and reflecting the shimmer of his brands. He found it disconcerting and averted his eyes from hers, such an expression on a mage could never be good. With an effort of will he focused on the tangible surroundings, noticing the cracking plaster walls, a crate of ripening apples lending a sweet scent which could not quite cover the smell of dust and rotting wood. The world around him began to dim, until the sconced torches were the only light source once again.

"We should move on." He suggested tersely.   
"Alright" She agreed "Lead the way. I'll be right behind you when you need me."  
Which was indeed what unsettled him, but he ignored his emotional response to her presence and turned toward the nearest door. Behind which, his mind helpfully reminded him, might lurk his greatest fear. First he had to cut down Denarius and become truly free, then he could consider this Hawke. 

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> I started at right after their meeting, but I'm planning for this to skip some time.  
> This is also not going to be a healthy relationship when it starts, that's because of the prompt.  
> Hopefully I can move it towards one though---that is my prospective end goal. 
> 
> See spelling/grammar errors? Please tell me! Gentle suggestions, or Constructive criticism are welcome :)


End file.
